


Small Bump

by egocentrifuge



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alien Sex, Egg Laying, M/M, Tentacle Sex, uhm well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5936581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Uhm,” Dan says.</p><p>It’s a very specific <i>uhm.</i></p><p>“Oh,” Gavin says. That’s the <i>uhm</i> that had led to Gavin’s first Gay Encounter, accompanied with a red-faced Dan who had been <i>so completely sincere</i> about not knowing what to do with his own body. Which makes. Makes a lot of sense, now, considering–oh christ, that <i>uhm.</i></p><p>Gavin swallows. “Is this a Pon Farr thing, mate?”</p><p>“Pon Farr?” Dan repeats. “Is that a food?”</p><p>“No, you bloody–really? You’re–you haven't seen Star Trek?”</p><p>“Oh, that. No, it’s all a load of bollocks. Take it from an extraterrestrial.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Bump

Gavin has always known Dan was a bit strange, certainly–he interacts with the world like he doesn’t quite know how to. Trying to taste paint is just the tip of the iceberg. Gavin’s had to stop him from eating dirt on more than one occasion, and once caught him eating a sandwich that was just… condiments. Ketchup, mayo, mustard, relish, and bread. That’s it. Like he’d gotten the memo that those things were vital... but hadn’t quite figured out what else went into it.

Gavin’s always thought that it’s just–just Dan. Just a quirk.

And he’s… not wrong. But he doesn’t realize the origin of the quirkiness until he’s woken up in the middle of the night by an almighty crashing.

“B?” he calls, dragging himself upright. From what he can tell in the dim light, Dan isn’t in the other bed. Normally Gavin would write it off, shout for Dan to keep it down, but Dan _had_ been tazed in the name of content today and, well. Gavin’d be a prick to not be worried about him.

“Dan?” he calls, more loudly. There’s another crash, and this time it’s definitely coming from the bathroom. Gavin’s on his feet before the image of Dan splayed out on the cold porcelain can fully materialize itself.

The bathroom door is open, but the light is off. Gavin gropes for it automatically before Dan’s voice cuts through the dark like a knife.

“Leave it,” he says–growls, really. Gavin drops his hand.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Now that he’s this close Gavin can hear Dan’s labored breathing, the pained groans of the shower curtain as it bears some great weight. 

“I’m fine,” Dan lies. “Go back to bed, B.”

“Dan,” Gavin starts. He reaches for the light switch again and nearly shouts when Dan’s hand closes around his wrist.

“I said, _leave it,”_ Dan repeats. Except–no, that can’t be right, he’s still in the shower, so who’s…?

Gavin extends his finger. Flips the switch.

He catches a glimpse of grey and pink and Dan’s pained expression before the light slams off again.

Oddly enough, Gavin’s first thought is calm, is curious, a distant _I wonder what that’d look like in slow motion._ The shock creeps in like the chill of the tiles against Gavin’s bare feet, crawls up his legs and settles in the pit of his chest. 

“Dan,” he says. His voice is surprisingly even. “Are you… okay?”

There’s a lot more to ask, but– _but._ One thing at a time.

Dan’s hand tightens on Gavin’s wrist–or, well, something tightens. Gavin tries not to jerk his arm away, mainly for fear that Dan won’t let go.

“I’m–” Dan starts again.

“Don’t–don’t lie to me,” Gavin interrupts. “Just, are you alright?”

The silence comes again. Gavin isn’t sure he imagines the steady dripping, isn’t sure he doesn’t. He’s just about worked up the courage to bring up his other hand to see what’s holding him when Dan finally speaks.

“No,” he admits. “I’m–I’m in a bad way, Gav.”

Dan sounds–like Dan. Defeated and miserable, but _Dan,_ and that’s–that’s good. That’s something Gavin can work with. He’s used to looking out for his boi, he can–he can deal with… this.

Whatever _this_ is.

Gavin’s memory helpfully provides the facts as they stand and his imagination takes the rest and runs with it. He might be trembling a little when he speaks, but really, who in their right mind _wouldn’t_ be when presented with dripping and mauve and _dripping maws–_

“I’m guessing the, the voltage didn’t, ah, agree with your… physiology?” Gavin hazards. Dan laughs, and as strained as the sound is, it’s still a laugh.

“Unbelievable,” Dan mumbles. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Gavin can feel his heart kicking up when Dan shifts, and the sound just–keeps going.

“You’re out of this world,” he says weakly. It’s a task to keep his breathing under control. Dan groans. 

“Can we not, with the jokes.” Gavin can still hear him moving, still hear the–the slithering. There’s something running down Gavin’s arm from where Dan’s still holding him, something warm and slick and, and mucusy, almost.

“I don’t know how to help you,” Gavin blurts rather than think about the viscosity of whatever’s dripping. “Can I? Can I help you?”

“Uhm,” Dan says.

It’s a very specific _uhm._

“Oh,” Gavin says. That’s the _uhm_ that had led to Gavin’s first Gay Encounter, accompanied with a red-faced Dan who had been _so completely sincere_ about not knowing what to do with his own body. Which makes. Makes a lot of sense, now, considering–oh christ, that _uhm._

Gavin swallows. “Is this a Pon Farr thing, mate?”

“Pon Farr?” Dan repeats. “Is that a food?”

“No, you bloody–really? You’re–you have seen Star Trek?”

“Oh, that. No, it’s all a load of bollocks.”

Gavin blows out a deep breath, pinches his nose with his free hand.

“Is it a–a _sex_ thing?” he asks.

“Uhm,” Dan says. “Well–”

“That’s a yes,” Gavin interrupts. “That’s a _yes,_ christ–”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to ask you to–”

“What, you were just going to munk off in the shower and hope your ectoplasm would wash down the drain?”

Dan’s laugh is familiar, is a relief, even if his stupidity isn’t. “Ectoplasm is ghosts, Gav–”

“Are you going to tell me they’re real, too?” Gavin interrupts, trying not to smile.

“Don’t be–”

“If you say _daft_ I’m going to take your slimy arse to Area 51 myself, Dan.”

“What’s–”

“Oh, for god’s sake! Are you going to bugger me or not?”

Dan’s laughter goes all squeaky like it does when he’s flustered. It makes Gavin feel slightly better about the situation, about the fact that there is what he can no longer deny is a _tentacle_ around his arm and will most likely be one up his–

“You don’t have to,” Dan starts. He’d be appalled to know how stupidly hopeful he sounds.

Gavin considers. Shrugs.

“What kind of person finds out their mate is an extraterrestrial in an injury-induced heat and then doesn’t offer to take it up the arse for them?”

Dan blows out a deep breath and then Gavin is being drawn gently forward by the wrist. 

“Alright, well,” he says. “We should probably leave the lights off, then.”

“Don’t you want–” Gavin starts, meaning to ask if Dan doesn’t want to return to bed, but then his foot makes contact with what is absolutely and undeniably a puddle. He can’t stop the sound that tears out of him, which of course makes Dan laugh, which means Gavin’s reaching out to jab a side that–doesn’t exist, technically, and a second tentacle is sliding up his arm like a very, very large slug.

Gavin gags. Dan laughs again.

“You can leave,” he starts to say. Gavin shakes his head.

“No, just–just get on with it.”

“Not a ringing endorsement, b.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think there’d be this much slime, alright?”

“It’s good for some things,” Dan hedges, and without preamble Gavin’s briefs are being pushed down and the softest, warmest, wettest thing Gavin’s ever had touch him is sliding around his cock and Gavin’s protests die in his throat.

This is better than the befuddled handjob Dan had given him once. This is better than the surprise blowjob that Dan had licked his lips and looked thoughtful after. This is–this is everything guys dream about and Gavin goes from totally flaccid to hard as nails with a speed that leaves him dizzy.

“Jesus,” Gavin breathes. His knees feel weak, which is abruptly no longer an issue when Dan shifts and there’s another tentacle snaking up Gavin’s legs and he’s being lifted like he’s nothing. Gavin is pretty sure he shouldn’t be aroused by the display, but then, he’s pretty sure aliens haven’t made contact with the human race yet, and definitely don’t go around wanking their childhood friends off in bathtubs. The tentative touch–almost delicate _probing_ –at Gavin’s back door, that feels a little more par for the course, though Gavin isn’t sure he can be bothered to worry about it with Dan working him over so thoroughly.

“Have you done this before?” Dan asks. Gavin doesn’t have the breath to laugh at him.

“No,” he manages, then, “idiot.”

“Alright,” Dan huffs. “No need to be snippy.”

Gavin’s comment that this is the perfect time to be snippy, thanks, dies in his throat when Dan teases inside of him.

It’s–it’s nothing like Gavin ever imagined it’d be like–not that he’s imagined that, not that he could ever have imagined _this._ There’s a give to whatever’s inside him that’s… inhuman, and as it starts to move that feeling of _otherness_ only increases. It’s, it’s–Gavin can’t be sure, but it feels like he’s being stretched without being thrust into, like Dan’s… arm, leg, dick, _whatever,_ is expanding and contracting at will.

Gavin’s horrified to realize he’s absolutely going to do this again, and in front of the Phantom. He just–he needs to know, alright?

“Alright?” Dan asks hoarsely. Gavin nods, practically beyond words, and is thankful that Dan seems to have impeccable night vision.

“You can,” Gavin rasps, pauses. “Deeper.”

Dan blows out a warm breath against Gavin’s side and then he’s being pulled down and sparks drag across Gavin’s vision as Dan pushes further inside of him.

“Fuck,” Dan breathes. Gavin agrees wholeheartedly. That–that undulating thing is still happening, the ebb and flow of pressure that Gavin feels on a level that goes beyond thrusting. It’s–it’s almost reassuring, the way Dan’s lost focus on Gavin’s cock, almost–human. 

Gavin sucks in a breath to laugh but ends up moaning instead when Dan pushes yet deeper. It’s–it shouldn’t, but it _is,_ it’s happening, and Gavin’s hips jerk against his volition as the smooth motion inside of him takes on a slightly ragged note. Dan’s breathing is certainly labored; Gavin can feel him shaking where he’s still holding Gavin suspended.

“Can I,” Dan asks, sounding pained. 

Gavin doesn’t know what he’s asking, doesn’t care. He nods.

There’s a sudden pressure, a sudden–firmness, a sudden burn, and then there’s the tantalizing drag of something hard against Gavin’s prostate. His toes curl as he makes a helpless attempt to grind down, and then the sensation is passing and Gavin groans weakly.

“More,” he says without thinking, with no idea what Dan did, without any clue what he’s asking. 

Dan makes a sound like he’s been wounded and–and he’s doing it again, and _again,_ and Gavin’s understanding shakes apart as the orgasm tears through him.

He’s vaguely aware of Dan lowering him into the tub, of pulling out and out and out, but it isn’t until Dan is muttering over the taps that Gavin forces his eyes open.

“Blue for cold, red for hot,” he mumbles. Dan snorts.

“I knew that,” he says. “Here, budge up, let me get you clean.”

Gavin tries in vain to sit up, abandons it. He feels–well, he feels like he’d just had his mind fucking blown, but also… bloated, like he’d eaten far too much, like it’s starting to catch up with him. He presses a hand to his belly and groans when he feels how warm it is.

“Jesus, B, how much did you cum?” Gavin asks, too tired and wrung out to be embarrassed by the question. Dan snorts and flicks the light on.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he says, and it–it’s Dan, just Dan, looking a little shiny and definitely a lot naked, but with two arms and two legs and a normal cock and a too-smug look on his face. “It’s not even a full brood, you baby.”

“Brood?” Gavin laughs. He risks looking at his splayed legs–slick with… with _something,_ but it’s thankfully colorless. He relaxes back against the porcelain, brings his other hand up to cradle his stomach. 

“Brood,” Dan repeats. “Clutch. That is what it’s called, right? Like, with chickens? A baker’s dozen, or something?”

“That’s thirteen,” Gavin chides. “A dozen is twelve. And you’re thinking of eggs.”

“Eggs, right,” Dan says. “Thirteen eggs.”

It’s uncomfortable to laugh because of how full Gavin feels, but he manages two good chuckles before his thoughts assemble.

Clutch. Eggs. Full.

“You’re joking,” Gavin breathes. “Dan, did–are there–”

“You said I could,” Dan accuses. “I, I asked.”

“You–”

“I did,” Dan insists. “You nodded, Gav. That means yes. Humans do that for yes.”

“Humans,” Gavin repeats, feeling lightheaded, “do not lay _eggs.”_

Dan snorts. “Obviously.”

“Ob–” Gavin starts. He draws a deep breath. Tries to keep his voice level. “Did you–did you–”

The questions dies in Gavin’s throat as Dan leans down, puts a hand over Gavin’s. Presses.

Now that he knows what he’s looking for, Gavin feels the shift of–of. 

“Eggs,” he repeats. “Thirteen?”

“A baker’s dozen,” Dan agrees. “Don’t worry, they’re not viable. They’ll pass in–oh, I don’t know. Humans have wonky systems.”

Gavin gives it a good shot, but there’s–there’s nothing you can say to that, really.

Dan starts the water running and Gavin stares at the still-slimed shower curtain and. And presses down against his belly.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at egocentrifuge.tumblr.com


End file.
